


Every Time I Close The Door I'm Left Wanting More Of You

by lisachan



Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [18]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Manila feels nauseous and her magic isn't there to help her. So Lacros must.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/414045
Kudos: 5
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans, COW-Tverse & Polyverso





	Every Time I Close The Door I'm Left Wanting More Of You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this week's COWT #10 M1, prompt: _newborn_ , WHICH I KNOW I CHEATED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE PORN. And anyway the baby's there, at some point, so whatever.

She's nauseous. She's been nauseous for a week, at this point, and it bothers her enormously, because she knows it comes from a lack of magic. She still remembers how it was to carry Celes back when he was nothing but a tiny bean of sparkling magic sitting in the depths of her body, and she never felt like this back then. Sure, she was younger, and she lived a frantic life that spared her no time to feel sick, but on top of that, what really made it impossible for her to feel like this, was her power – the magic she only recently lost saving her baby boy from certain death.

Like a blanket, or a shield, her magic protected her from worries and sickness, carrying her through her pregnancy gently as though she was drifting down a quiet stream of water. She never for a second thought she would've been forced to stop space-traveling, or take the usual extraordinary risks she so much loved to take for the sole thrill of always being able to save herself at the last minute.

She was safe. And now she's not anymore.

She doesn't miss the magic – well, not too much, at least – but she misses the kind of confidence it gave her, the power it had to make her feel as though she could weather anything coming her way, pleasant or not. This is working differently and she doesn’t know if there’s a way to make it any less unpleasant.

And just when she thinks about this, that’s Lacros’ cue to walk into the room.

There is almost nothing in the whole Polyverse that Manila loves more than her brother. She’s always felt like she was destined to him in some form, and now that she knows in _which_ form – never a wife, but the mother of his offspring – she feels happier than she’s ever been. Her mother used to tell her that all Seers came with two purposes, one personal and one all-encompassing, and that no Seer could ever tame their restlessness until they had fulfilled them both.

Whenever Lacros is by her side, now, she feels at rest. So she figures she must have fulfilled both her purposes successfully.

“Are you alright?” her brother asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to her. She’s lying down in a nest of blankets, belly up, and she can’t see her feet, which kind of sucks.

“No,” she whines, turning on her side and hiding her face in Lacros’ lap, “I feel sick. I want to puke.”

“Not while you’re resting on me, my Little One,” he smiles, passing his fingers through her hair, untying the knots down her lengths, “How long has it been since you washed yourself? Your hair is a mess.”

“I’m clean,” she pouts, offended, “Why, do I smell?”

Lacros chuckles and leans in, kissing her on her forehead. “Forget I ever said anything,” he says, knowing that if he keeps talking about this there’s going to be hell to pay, “What can I do to help you with your nausea?”

Manila sighs, turning on her back again. Sometimes her belly aches when she stays on one side too long. This little one’s going to be problematic, she already knows that. “I don’t know,” she pouts, “I have a remedy for when I’m feeling sick, but apparently I’m disgusting and I can’t ask you to do that.”

Lacros raises an eyebrow, studying her. “Does this remedy of yours include me getting naked?”

“Not necessarily. Why, what’s the matter with getting naked?”

Lacros smiles and leans into her, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. “I don’t want to have sex with you, my Little One,” he whispers on her mouth, alternating words and kisses, what he says killing her, what he does giving her new life, “You’re too far into the pregnancy and I don’t want to risk any complication. But when I get naked with you, I can’t seem to hold myself back.”

Manila whimpers and shivers, clinging to him in an urgent movement. It’s incredible – the effect her brother has on her. She wasn’t even thinking about sex, up to a minute ago – she felt too sick to think about it. And now, suddenly, it’s the only thing she can think of. “Don’t speak like this or it’s going to be me who will not be able to hold herself back.”

Lacros smiles again, she feels kissed by that smile and she feels a pull towards him that’s unprecedented, even for her. “Tell me,” her brother says, speaking softly, “Does this remedy of yours include me sliding down your body...” he says, speaking on her skin through the featherweight nightgown she’s wearing, “And between your thighs…?”

Manila parts her legs on pure instinct, throwing her head back. She feels feverish, her skin hot and already sweaty, the light fabric she’s wearing clinging to her like a second skin. “Yes,” she utters with a shaky voice.

Lacros slips underneath the skirt of the nightgown and breathes slowly against her wet, wet sex. “Should I kiss this illness away, my Little One?”

“Please, yes,” she moans, putting both hands on her brother’s head through her clothes and pushing him down towards herself.

She can hear him chuckle briefly, but after that all she can hear are the wet, obscene noises of his tongue and lips as they caress her, giving her the release she was aching for. Her whole body opens up for him, she welcomes his tongue inside her, she whimpers and shivers every single time his lips close around her clit and suck.

He’s shameless like he never was before, their relationship has always been consumed in shameful little instants stolen out of the rigid scheme of things Lacros always imposed on his life, but since what happened last year he’s possessed by a spark, something she can’t fully understand, that is completely his and speaks a language only Lacros can speak. It’s magic different than her own, leading him to her, bounding him to her, and for the first time in his life he’s letting himself be transported by that magic, careful about his treading, aware of the consequences they might face if this became public, but at the same time determined not to let fear govern his actions and thoughts.

They’re connected, now, by something deep and wild, something that cannot be restrained. And they’re riding it towards their future, whichever it might be.

As he keeps licking her, and as she gets closer to her climax, she moans loudly, calls his name and taps into whatever tiny sliver of magic she’s been left with, asking it to show her something good. And her magic shows her a little bit of what’s expecting them. She sees herself standing on the terrace of her bedroom holding a little one in her arms. He’s blonde and pouty and pale and beautiful, he looks like her but has Lacros’ eyes. He clings to her and coos something unintelligible, and Lacros is standing next to her, leaning in on them, kissing her on her naked shoulder first, then the baby on his pale blond head.

She smiles blissfully and then she comes with a louder moan, her knees coming together around her brother’s head, squeezing it for a second before she loses all her strength and lets them fall back down on the mattress.

She shakes for a few seconds longer, but then she settles down, and when she does she smiles again, because her nausea’s gone.

Lacros resurfaces from the mess of her gowns, licking his lips. He’s the single most attractive thing Manila has ever seen in her life, and she’s seen a lot of extremely attractive things during her travels. “Come here right away,” she says, reaching out for him.

He smiles and leans in on her, allowing her a wet, deep kiss, letting her taste herself on his own tongue.

“I gather you feel better, my Little One?”

“This never fails to make me feel better,” she grins, “Also, I have news.”

He frowns, a little concerned. He’s learned, over the years, to always fear whatever sudden news his sister brings him. “What is it?”

“We’re going to have a boy,” she smiles proudly, “I just saw it.”

Lacros looks at her, opening his eyes wide. “I thought you were struggling with your visions.”

“Your magic tongue did the trick.”

“Oh, by the ancient Gods,” Lacros laughs, with some embarrassment, “Don’t say that.”

“What, you can tell me you can’t keep your hands off me when we’re naked but I can’t tell you that you have a magic tongue?”

Lacros laughs and stands up from the bed, leaving her on it. “I see you’re alright, now,” he says, “So my work here is done.”

“What?! No!” she protests, outraged, “Come back here. I’m not satisfied yet. We can fuck without you endangering the baby, I promise.”

“I said no,” Lacros smiles, moving away.

“Damn...” Manila mutters under her breath, watching him leave with no second thought, “Once I’ve given birth I’m going to _drain_ you.”

Lacros, still on the door, hears her. He doesn’t let her know, but he honestly can’t wait.


End file.
